17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
In the morning, Bert’s wife whipped us up a hearty meal of eggs, fruit, and a potato fry, along with strong, strong coffee.
The second strong was at the request of Emil.
He didn’t complain, didn’t say a word about it, but the redness of his eyes and swoop of darkness beneath them told me he’d lied. I wondered if he’d slept at all. I was watching him cautiously, and he caught me while taking a sip of coffee.
“What?” he asked, looking down at his shirt and running a hand over his mouth, searching for stray crumbs of food.
I pursed my lips, then gave a knowing shrug. “Nothing.”
We finished breakfast and readied for the second leg of our journey, bidding Bert a heart-felt thank-you before we drove off with a wave.
The familiar stunning scenery greeted us as we wove a return journey through the same route, though it looked different going than it had coming. The new perspective shifted and revealed things I hadn’t noticed from the opposite side of the car. Another thing that’d changed? Emil’s driving.
He didn’t drive aggressively normally, but now we were cruising at granny speed. At first, I ignored it. Then, I fought against saying something. Until…
“Where’s the fire?” I asked.
He blinked, his expression unfocused. “Huh?”
“Be careful, Speedy McGee, or we might end up in Munich before tomorrow.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Probably because you didn’t get any sleep last night, Emil,” I finally said softly.
He frowned, but gave in. “Yeah.”
“I wish you would’ve let me get it fixed.”
“It’s my own fault,” he said, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. He winced. “Would you be able to drive for a while? Just so I can nap a little?”
My gaze zeroed in on the gear shift like it was a venomous snake. Technically, I knew how to drive stick. My mother had owned a manual car when I was learning to drive, but, lucky for me, the thing had given up the ghost a few weeks in (I took no responsibility that my atrocious skills had killed it outright). Her next car had, mercifully, been an automatic.
I cringed at Emil. “Never have I ever driven a stick?”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Never?”
“Well…” I explained, but made it clear that, while theoretically I could, maybe I shouldn’t.
He licked his lips, contemplating how much of his life he was willing to gamble. “Want to try it while we’re still on the back roads?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, worried. How much of his life was I willing to gamble? With one more desperate look from his bloodshot eyes, I caved.
“All right, if you really want me to,” I sighed, “but you do so at your own peril.”
He pulled over so quickly, I think I underestimated his exhaustion.
Ten minutes later, after stalling the car during my first five attempts to get it into gear, we were rolling down the narrow road. My hands gripped the wheel convulsively, my muscles taut. I didn’t risk looking at Emil, but his lack of movement in my periphery told me he wasn’t any more relaxed.
“Good,” he complimented me as I managed to find my way into third. He breathed with relief as he eased further into his seat.
“Don’t get too comfy yet,” I warned him.
He scoffed at the possibility.
But soon enough, soft snores floated through the car and, without an audience, I did loosen up a fraction. There were practically no other cars around, so all I had to do was focus on keeping us on the road. That much, at least, I was pretty confident I could handle.
Signs for the freeway started to pop up, growing closer and closer. One name suddenly set off alarm bells.
Autobahn.
Even I knew of that legendary stretch of highway.
“Emil,” I whispered, worried as the sign warned me of the entrance ahead. He didn’t answer. “Emil!”
He jerked awake. “What? What’s wrong?”
“The Autobahn!” I practically screeched.
“So?”
“No speed limit!”
“Only some parts don’t,” he said calmly, though I wondered if it was solely to stop the impending freak-out on my part.
“Oh, great.” My knuckles turned white on the steering wheel.
“Freeway driving is the easiest kind to drive a stick.” Was that amusement in his voice?
I aimed a sideways glare at him.
“Do you want me to take over?” he offered.
Too little, too late. We were already taking the gentle curve of the on-ramp.
“Emil…” I worried as cars raced past me.
“You’re okay,” he encouraged, looking back to help me assess traffic. “ You’ve got it.”
I pressed hard on the gas. The car lurched, but picked up speed to match the oncoming vehicles.
“You should be good here,” he confirmed as I inched between two long gaps. And then we were sailing along the famous highway. I released a breath.
“I’m staying in the slow lane,” I bit out.
“You’re okay?” He rested a hand on my arm. “We can trade places if you’re not.”
I licked my dry lips. I didn’t want to risk our lives, but he’d barely gotten twenty minutes of sleep yet. I reminded myself that all I had to manage was brake, gas, and switch lanes for the most part here, the same as regular driving. Unless some jerk cut me off or a deer ran out into the road or…
“I’ve got it,” I managed to say, sounding somewhat sure.
“If you aren’t, just tell me.”
“I will.”
Eventually, my panic dimmed, and we cruised along with the minimal traffic. Emil also was able to fall back asleep. It wasn’t until I started seeing Munich climbing up the list on the road signs that I woke him.
“Sorry,” I apologized.
He stretched. “It’s fine. Where are we?”
“Not sure exactly,” I admitted, “but I think we’re getting close. Is it okay if we switch?”
We did at the next opportunity, the last vestiges of adrenaline fading from my body as he took over. I found myself grinning at finally having conquered that monster from the past.
Emil’s smile touched his still-tired eyes. “You did good, Ljepotice.”
My eyes narrowed. “Dani called me that, too. What does it mean?”
Emil cleared his throat, staring out the window. “Ljepotice?” he said, stalling for time. “Uh…it means beauty. It’s used in a…something you call someone you care for? I can’t thin k of it.”
“Girlfriend?”
“No. Well…” he corrected quickly, “Ljepotice, it’s often used in that way, yes. But the other expression I’m trying to think of doesn’t have to be. It can be what a grandparent calls a grandchild or…something affectionate? I can’t think of how you’d say it.”
“A term of endearment?”
“That’s it.”
“But Ljepotice…it does translate to beauty?” I pressed. “As in a beautiful woman?”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yes.”
My insides warmed pleasantly while I let him sweat it before offering him a lifeline. “Dani’s a major flirt, isn’t he?”
Emil chuckled. “You have no idea.”
“I might,” I said, lifting a brow.
His next laugh had an edge to it.
“What’s the Bosnian word for rascal?”
“Rascal…” Emil repeated, sounding it out into a question.
“Rogue, hoodlum, womanizer, flirt,” I provided. “You know, so if I ever see him again, I can have a comeback in a language he’ll have no problem understanding.” I grinned sweetly.
“Hmm. ?enskar, I suppose?”
He helped me to pronounce it correctly, along with other options ranging in varying degrees of insult. From there, we continued a back-and-forth game of saying this and that in English versus Bosnian before entering the outskirts of Munich.
The urban sprawl of the city surrounded us as we maneuvered our way toward the old town center. Sweat beaded down my back as we parked and walked through the bustle. We were headed to a hotel I’d scouted online and showed availability before I lost reception in the mountains. The lobby was sleek and modern, decorated with a minimalist white-on-white color palette. An elegant marble countertop cut a graceful arch across the back of the room, hiding the row of computers where the receptionists worked. One of them looked up as we approached, and promptly assessed us.
“Welcome,” she said pleasantly. “Two rooms?”
“Uh,” I mumbled uncertainly, glancing at Emil.
He lifted a shoulder noncommittally. “It’s up to you.”
I chewed my lip. On one hand, his presence was welcome. On the other, my unpredictable nightmares had to be a disturbance. And after last night, he might as well get a proper, full-night’s sleep in peace.
“Two, please,” I decided.
When everything was in the system and paid for, she printed off our receipts. “Here are your keys,” she said, passing them and the paperwork over the cool counter. “Would you like any brochures or maps for your stay?”
“Yes, I have a few questions,” I began.
“I’ll take the bags up,” Emil offered as he took his keycard, easily hoisting up Bertha and heading for the stairs.
“How can I help?” the receptionist encouraged me after he left.
“Neither of us have been here before,” I said. “Do you have any recommendations? Food, sights, activities?”
“Where are you visiting from?” she asked as she pulled pamphlets from beneath the counter.
“I’m from the US and he’s from Bosnia.”
“Very nice,” she responded, laying the folded papers out flat, and began circling her top picks for places nearby to eat, good spots for shopping, and several art galleries and museums. She paused. “Have you ever been to a German bathhouse?”
“First time in Germany,” I laughed, “so no.”
“They are very relaxing,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. She indicated one on the map that didn’t look too far away. “This is my favorite. They’ve got all sorts of baths, mineral, hot and cold, saunas, and so on. A little more adult-focused, though there is a main pool for families.”
“Do I need to book in advance? ”
She shook her head. “No, it’s all quite casual.”
I thanked her for her help and made my way to the third floor. Emil was waiting outside my room with Bertha.
“Thanks,” I said, grabbing her by the handle and sliding the plastic card into the slot. “I would like to clean up, and then we can talk about what to do, if that works for you?”
“Sounds good,” he agreed, glancing at his watch. “Half hour?”
“Perfect.”
With that, he let himself in next door.
Inside, my room was clean and simple, with a balcony overlooking a quiet street below. I showered and was patting my hair dry when there was a soft knock. I slipped on a fluffy white bathrobe and opened the door.
“Come on in,” I said, standing to the side. Emil’s eyes briefly skated down the low V of my robe before snapping up and away. He walked in, looking around, though the room was probably a mirror image of his own.
“Did the receptionist help with ideas?” he asked curiously as he turned to me again when I shut the door. His focus stayed trained upon my face.
“Yes.” I went to the nightstand and spread the brochures across my bed. I pointed out some of the sights and restaurants. Emil nodded agreeably until I got to the bathhouse.
“She was telling me how there’s all these options, and it sounds so nice,” I sighed.
“Are you sure you want to do that?”
I frowned. “You don’t?”
“I don’t know how comfortable I am with it,” he admitted.
“Really?” My excitement plummeted, followed by confusion. “But you were happy to swim at the waterfalls. I thought you’d like it?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, but this is different. And there are probably a lot of people there.” His attention dropped to his finger, which picked at the pattern in the comforter, his body stiff and uncomfortable .
“Emil, are you shy?”
He swallowed. “No.”
“You are!” I teased. “You know you have nothing to worry about, right?”
“I don’t?”
I shook my head.
“Why don’t I?” His bashfulness dissipated as he stared at me.
“Because you are gorgeous.”
Oh god, did I just say that?
It was my turn to hide. I ducked my head, only to notice my bathrobe was nearly falling open. I crossed my arms.
“Gorgeous?” he prompted.
“Handsome,” I amended. There, that sounded more manly.
His fingers pinched my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were like flashlights, light pouring in to search through my hidden secrets. “Hmm,” he murmured, seeming satisfied with what he found there.
My skin was already warm from the shower, but it flushed crimson. My body tensed beneath his touch with excitement. A breath whispered between my lips.
“You do look as if you could use some relaxation,” he assessed. His gaze slid down my neck and to my chest before it locked again on my face, which he gently released. “Is this what you want?”
“Yes.” I wanted so much more.
Quietly, he nodded. “All right.”
“Tomorrow?” I said.
“Tomorrow.”
The next morning, we absorbed the picture-perfect window view of our corner of Munich while sipping coffee and munching on crisp ginger cookies out on the balcony. I sighed with contentment as I stared out at the city, listening to it buzz with life. Emil fidgeted with something in his pocket.
We spent the earlier part of the day exploring our neighborhood, browsing through shops and markets. But we stuck close to home so we could return after a quick lunch to change and head to the spa.
The bathhouse was a short, leisurely walk from the hotel and was a beautiful mix of old-style architecture and modern-day function. A grand reception area awaited, along with a genteel smile from the woman behind it. She checked us in efficiently and pointed in the direction of the communal locker areas.
It was quiet as we found row after row of empty aisles. We picked one at random and began to organize our things. Emil pulled his shirt over his head. I couldn’t stop from looking down for a second, then forced myself to return to his face. He didn’t quite meet my eye as he shoved the T-shirt into our locker.
“Ready?” For some reason, the word quivered.
“Yeah, I’ll be just a minute,” I said, my voice responding to his nervousness with an octave change. “I need to use the restroom first. I’ll meet you out there.”
He stared into the locker. “Want to meet in the sauna?”
“Yep, sounds good!” I called, already turning the corner to the toilets.
Once inside, I took several breaths. Why was I so nervous? Why was he so nervous? It was counterproductive to the whole experience! And it wasn’t as if we hadn’t seen one another in a bathing suit before. I shook myself, letting my hair loose before pulling it up into a high bun. I changed into my swimsuit while I was in the privacy of the stall, set my shoulders back with confidence, and emerged.
The locker room was dead. Voices from several rows down were the only sounds besides the distant splash beyond the wide arch to my left. I shoved my clothes into the locker without folding them and slammed the door shut. With my towel in hand, I headed through the arch and noticed a small placard with SAUNA written on it and an arrow pointing the way.
When I turned the corner, a huge cathedral ceiling soared overhead. Stained glass windows met glittering crystal, showering the pools with a heavenly light. I followed the beams down to where they winked in the water. And then my gaze stuck.
My jaw dropped.
Every single person—young and old, men and women—was entirely nude.
I stood still as a statue. But I suddenly realized I was staring, so I wandered toward one of the smaller pools lining the wall for something to do as a distraction. I discarded my towel at the edge and, as I was about to step in, a voice cut sharply through the tranquil space.
“Stop!”
Immediately, my toes withdrew from the tantalizing warmth. I looked up and locked on to the man walking toward me, his eyebrows turned down in angry slashes over his narrowed eyes. He continued speaking in fiery German until he was a few paces away.
“Sorry?” I responded, the word an apology as much as a question.
His expression soured. “No swimsuit allowed.”
“Oh.” What did he expect me to do, strip on the spot?
He pointed toward the locker room. “In there. Towels only here.”
“Thank you.” I spun and practically ran back.
I sat on the bench in front of our locker, the door propped open, having pulled out Emil’s shorts. Currently, they were lying across my lap. Emil’s hesitance all made sense now. He hadn’t been afraid of swimming with other people. He’d been afraid of doing it utterly and completely naked.
My face plopped into my hands as I shook my head.
Good job, Mallory. Another gold star for you.
Eventually, I had to deal with it. Emil was out there waiting for me. It was my fault we were here. I couldn’t just leave him. He’d done this for me. C’mon, Mallory, get it together !
My mouth set into a firm line, determination boiling in my gut. I could do this. I’d survived much scarier things than people in their birthday suits. For heaven’s sake, I was a nurse now! Naked people were going to be my bread and butter.
I shut the locker door with a defiant clack .
Before I could hesitate, I once again followed the sign for the sauna, moving decisively and keeping focused on the destination. When I reached the correct hall, I had a fifty-fifty shot between two saunas on either side. Instinct pulled me to the right, and I steadied my nerves before I swung open the door.
I walked into the sweltering, claustrophobic room, my skin instantly flushed. The space was packed with naked bodies of every shape and size, but they remained on my periphery as I searched and locked on to only one.
Emil sat at the back, top row, hiding in the corner. His shoulders were hunched as he stared at his feet. But the rush of cool air from the swing of the door gently riffled his curls, so I knew he was aware of a new presence.
Nudity might not be sexual here normally, but when everyone other than the person in front of you faded away, and that person looked like he did, what else was there?
I drew in a breath. It caught in my lungs, now equally ablaze. However, it was nothing in comparison to the inferno when his eyes finally found mine. His gaze lowered, roaming my body from my exposed legs over my torso to reach my face once more. His lips parted as he drank me in like I was a refreshing glass of glacial water. I could have done with a dousing of the stuff myself. Heat pooled inside me, refusing to dissipate through my scorched skin. Time slowed, the whole room frozen, suspending us in this singular moment, book-ended by fire and ice.
Someone snapped, and my head jerked to the sound. A disgruntled looking man pointed at the door, which was still clasped open between my fingers, letting in the cool air. I let it fall closed, and he promptly ignored me once more.
I moved toward Emil, who scooted over to make space on the wooden bench beside him. I noted how everyone had their towels laid out beneath them and matched it. I sat down, trying to force myself to look anywhere other than at Emil.
I failed.
His attention was pointed firmly ahead, looking directly across the space with a determined fixation. I followed his stare to the blank wall by the door, but my gaze immediately wandered. Everyone was silent, save for the occasional shift and rustle of the bodies packed into the stifling room. Luckily, being in the back, I didn’t feel as exposed, but still managed to lock eyes with a few people adjacent to me. I ducked my head with an apologetic wince.
It was difficult to breathe, the steam soaking into every crack and crevice. It was tropical mugginess turned up one thousand percent. I was on the verge of suffocating. How did anyone find this relaxing? I tried to take shallower breaths, but it made me lightheaded. I leaned back, focusing only on not dying.
Emil’s hand brushed the side of my thigh, and I jumped at how sensitive his soft touch was on my overheated skin.
“Are you okay?” His whisper was directly against my ear and it tickled.
“Mhmm.”
The door to the sauna opened, inviting in a luxurious swath of breathable air. My heart leapt. Maybe they needed to clean and were kicking us out.
A lithe woman hauled in a bucket and oversized ladle, a towel strewn over her shoulder. Several people straightened, and I perked up with them, aware something was about to happen. She approached the collection of rocks near the center, dipped the ladle in the bucket, and streamed water over the stones with a sizzle. The pleasant aroma of eucalyptus filled the air. I was inhaling the heavenly scent when she began doing some sort of dance with the huge towel. I watched, entranced, as mist from the rocks billowed and swirled like magic around her.
And then it hit me.
The steam reached its fingers all the way to the back and slapped us with sweltering heat. This was far worse than any triple digits I’d endured in the hottest summer, the humidity adding an extra twenty degrees to the already unendurable temperature.
Instantly, I was at my breaking point.
“Emil,” I whispered, close to passing out.
“It’s the last part,” he murmured. “Two minutes, then it’s done.”
I wasn’t sure I could last two seconds.
“I don’t think…” Whatever I thought, it was worse.
Involuntarily, I slumped to my side, but strong arms pulled me in.
“I’ve got you. Let’s go.”